


Pussession

by Nightelfbane



Series: Empress Emily's Erotic Encounters [2]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Consensual Mind Control, Consensual Possession, F/F, Female Wyman (Dishonored), Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Masturbation, Mind Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Dishonored 2 (Video Game), Sharing a Body, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightelfbane/pseuds/Nightelfbane
Summary: Emily and Wyman try out another of the Empress's powers.
Relationships: Emily Kaldwin/Wyman
Series: Empress Emily's Erotic Encounters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990528
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Pussession

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you see any spelling or grammatical mistakes, or if you have any other constructive criticism
> 
> Anyway, yes I know Possession is a Corvo power. But this is NG+ Emily so she can use it too.

Gentle candlelight flickered warmly across the walls of their bedroom in Dunwall Tower. Here, late at night with her fiancé, the troubles of an empire seemed very far away. Wyman could feel the stress of the day melting away from her shoulders everytime she walked in.

It certainly helped when she had things like _this_ to look forward to.

"You ready?" Emily's voice came from behind her.

Wyman nodded. "Yes."

There's a small glow from behind her, a rush of quiet whispers, and then Emily is _there._

In her head. Inside her body. Dancing along her nerves. There's a hitch in Wyman's breathing as she loses control of her lungs and Emily takes over. Emily's thoughts settled themselves atop her own like a thick down blanket, almost smothering.

Her head moved without any input from her, looking down at her body clad in an ornate Morleyan dress. Emily raised Wyman's hands, testing the waters, and suddenly Wyman couldn't stand it. She pushed against the blanket smothering her, trying to shake off the possession, trying to move her arms, her head, her _anything-_

-And then Emily was gone, the heavy blanket pulled from her head. Wyman hunched forward, clutching her belly as nausea roils within.

Emily rushed to her side, putting a hand on her fiancé's shoulder. "Wyman!"

Wyman took a steadying breath before straightening up. The nausea was already receding. "I'm...I'm fine. That was...strange."

Emily grimaced. "You're right. I'm sorry, let's just forget-"

"No!" Wyman interrupted. "I'm okay now. I want to try again."

Emily's look was full of concern. "Are you sure?"

Wyman smiled at her reassuringly. "Yes, I'm sure. It'll be fun!"

Emily still looked concerned, but she nodded. "Alright, if you're sure." She raised her hand, the Mark glowing-

-and she was _there_ again.

Wyman was prepared this time. Emily settled inside of her once more, but instead of suffocating like before, Wyman nestled into the telepathic embrace. Instead of feeling smothering, it felt more like a heavy blanket wrapped around her comfortingly, protecting her from the cold.

Wyman's hands moved again, out of her control, and this time she forced the panic away. She loved Emily, and trusted her absolutely. This was simply a new level of intimacy for them to share, the closest together two people could ever be.

Emily turned her hands over, examining them. She was _intimately_ acquainted with Wyman's hands, yet she had never seen them like this before. Never controlled them like they were her own. She opened and closed her fists, marvelling at the sensation.

Emily cautiously took a step forward, towards the full length mirror on the other side of the bedroom. She didn't fall or stumble, so she continued more confidently until she was gazing at herself, or rather at Wyman, in the mirror.

Her hands travelled upwards from her hips, softly brushing the fabric of her dress. Wyman could feel them moving, see them in the mirror as she watched from behind her own eyes, but she was not in control anymore. Emily was the one moving her, pulling her strings. A spark ignited in her belly, small but excited and eager.

Emily cupped her breasts through her dress. Wyman's face flushed as her fingers rubbed her hardening nipples through the cloth. When her hands moved themselves to the clasp, the spark in her belly swelled into a flame of desire.

Emily didn't move Wyman's eyes from the mirror as she undressed her. The clasp opened and her dress fell around her feet, revealing smooth, pale skin washed in candlelight where it wasn't covered by lingerie. Emily swept her gaze up and down her lover's body, and Wyman felt the surge of her lust through their shared mind.

Emily turned her around, looking over her shoulder at her rear. She moved her hands to palm her ass, squeezing a handful before landing a sharp _smack!_ on her skin. Wyman would have yelped in suprise if she could. Instead, she saw her reflection's mouth curl up into her fiancé's grin.

Wyman's fingers slipped under the waistband of her underwear, dragging them down a teasing few inches before they retreated back up her torso. They left burning trails of sensation in their wake, leaving Wyman dizzy with need. She turned around again, facing the mirror as her hands went behind her back to work the clasp of her bra.

Her bra joined the dress on the floor. Emily immediately cupped her breasts again, pinching and rolling her nipples. She sighed with Wyman's voice as the pleasure sparked through them.

Emily took Wyman's hand away from her breasts and pressed it against the growing damp spot in her underwear. She rubbed in slow circles through the wet cloth that made Wyman want to moan and beg for more.

Normally, Emily liked to take her time, to tease until Wyman was coiled tight. But now she was on both sides of the equation; she decided to indulge them both - for now. She shucked Wyman's underwear off and abandoned them with the rest of her clothes. Leaving her place at the mirror, she hurried to the bed and collapsed onto it.

Wyman would have bit her lip in anticipation if she was able to. Instead, Emily sent her hands wandering again. She circled Wyman's fingers around her entrance, getting them soaked in the process. She used her lover's other hand to pinch and roll her nipples, letting out a small moan at the sensation.

Wyman was in rapture. Emily's touches sent lightning sparking all through her, through both of them. She cried out inside her mind as her lover slipped a finger inside her. Emily slid it in and out a few times before gently adding another, bringing Wyman's other hand down from her breasts to rub circles around her clit.

Wyman could feel herself approaching the edge and knew her lover was feeling the same orgasm building within them. Emily's breaths grew faster and faster as she incressed the pace of Wyman's hands. She brought them both right to the precipice...

...And then stopped. Wyman's hands stilled and the tension that was coiling tightly inside her belly eased, their orgasm sinking away.

 _What the hell?_ Wyman thought, frustrated.

To her relief, her hands started moving again, but slowly. Emily teased circles around her clit, never quite touching it while her fingers started another slow in-and-out rhythm. Wyman felt herself bite her lip as the tension wound up again, the delayed orgasm rearing its head. Emily sped up her fingers, crooking them upwards and brushing the rough patch inside her.

But just as Wyman felt herself tipping over the edge again, Emily withdrew her fingers entirely. Wyman wanted to scream with frustration as Emily brought her hands up to fondle her breasts, wetting them with her fluids. Emily smirked with Wyman's mouth, knowing exactly the frustration her lover was feeling.

 _Please,_ Wyman begged silently. _Please, please fuck me, make me cum, Emily, Empress, please please -_

Maybe Emily heard some of her pleading through their shared mind, or maybe she was just as eager as Wyman was. Either way, one of Wyman's hands left her breasts and moved back down to her core. Two fingers slipped in easily, quickly establishing a steady rhythm while her thumb assaulted her clit. Her other continued playing with her breasts, switching between the left and right randomly.

Finally, _finally,_ the lightning and the pleasure building within them burst forth, flooding their body and minds with ecstacy. Wyman's spine arched and she tightened around her still-thrusting fingers. Her legs trembled as the orgasm pulsed through her body. Emily threw Wyman's head back, mouth open in a strangled moan.

They slumped back into the bed, breathing heavily. Both of them floated pleasantly in the post-orgasm haze for a few moments before Emily pulled herself out of Wyman's head.

Wyman twitched as her body suddenly came under her control again. The Empress Of The Isles reappeared next to her in a swirl of black mist. She lay on her side, her head propped up on one hand as she smiled at her lover.

Wyman smiled back. "Em," she started. "That was - "

Emily pressed their lips together, silencing her for a moment before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together. "I know," she murmured warmly. "I was there too."

Wyman kissed her again, raising her hand to card it through Emily's hair. She swiped her tongue across her lips and Emily readily granted her access. She clambered over to straddle the Empress, pushing her onto her back.

Emily was still fully clothed, while Wyman was completely naked. She palmed her fiancé's breast through her jacket, making a low noise of discontent. She broke their kiss, looking down at the blue and gold garment. "Why are you still wearing clothes?" She demanded, tugging at the cloth.

Emily laughed and sat up, helping Wyman shed her clothing. When the last scrap of fabric was tossed away, they fell back into the sheets together, laughing.

They spent the rest of the night lost in wet kisses and warm touches, until the last candle burned out and drew a curtain of shadows on their sleeping, content forms.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment. This is a threat.  
> Seriously, I'm open to constructive criticism here.


End file.
